


The in-between

by Wilkins0n15



Series: How to build a home [3]
Category: USWNT - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-13 19:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilkins0n15/pseuds/Wilkins0n15
Summary: Moments of the in-between of learning how to build a home, and figuring it all out to make it work.





	1. Tobin

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Tobin taking the time to make things.

Tobin is fine with the label of chill, laughs off the way they say she’s ferocious on the field. She likes to take her time, soak it all in, and remind herself of every step she’s taken to home. She struggles with the right words to calm the brow, furrowed in guilt, on Kelley’s face in the early days of her and Emily. But she takes her time finding the right words.

Thinks back to how she’d never think to hide any thought from her, just let slip what ever came to mind. So the heat she feels at Kelley’s words that Christen is the only thing she talks about more than soccer is new. Holds onto the memory of how it seemed so simple, to voice the things she would notice of her. Thinks back to a night with the Pali blues, when they were so young that two in the morning still seemed early. Thinks back to when everything was just so new. 

She’d never been one for big moments on the dance floor, never felt the need to yell along to the lyrics. Found herself feeling at home sitting next to her, drawing out roses and scenes from the day on a napkin. Remembers the thrill of the heat in her cheeks when she took the pen over. Adding stars and clouds with a flourish, thinking how it seemed like something more. And she knew then she shouldn’t be so bold when looking into her eyes while sat in the corner. But it’s never been a thought in her head to keep it all in. 

Just remembers the tint to her cheeks when asked, “what are you thinking of?”

Never thought to pause in her answer. “Just trying to get down the shade of your eyes.”

Remembers the thrill of how shy her smile was.

“Do you always do that?” Thought her voice was too soft for the place they sat in, filtering in under the music. 

“Do what?” And she should’ve been embarrassed of how bold she talked, when everything was so new. When they only spoke in bursts of quiet between the riot of being so young in a crowd.

“Say whatever’s going through your mind?” Remembers the lines of her smile, how they hit soft against her sternum. Felt emboldened in the roots growing through her, setting deep in the light of her eyes.

“Never much thought it a problem... never really seen a reason not to.” Thinks they’re too grey to be green in the light of the bar.

“So what shade have you settled on?” Revels in the softness of her voice, the thrill of the blush that tints her cheeks, knowing she caused it.

“I don’t know yet.” Lets the words sit pretty on her tongue, let’s them shift something warm in her chest. “Sometimes they seem too grey to be green... and sometimes they’re too green to be grey.”

Remembers the way she turned her head away, hiding the heat in her cheeks with a shy smile.

“I never expect the words that come from your mouth Heath.” Likes how she says her name when tucked away in the corner.

“Is that a bad thing?” Wanted to memorize the lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the crinkle of her eyes. “Me trying to figure them out?”

Remembered how it hit soft against her sternum, nervous for her answer.

“No... it’s just surprising.” Wished she has something more to add, but instead thought they looked too grey to be green in the lights of the bar they sat in.

“I like surprising you.” Shrugged off the feeling before it could grow overwhelming, turned back to her drawing. Not questioning how she said it as a statement with no intention behind it. 

“Press! Come dance!” And Kelley’s always been too loud for her body to contain. Always too wild for Tobin to refrain from seeing just how far she could dare her.

Tobin remembers the way she leaned against her, eyes tracing lines on the back of a napkin. She remembers feeling dazed from the hit on her sternum, confused at how she wanted to know her. She watched her through eyelashes as she danced on the floor. Felt the weight of her glance when turned to another girl. Drank to shake the thought of her eyes from her mind. Laughed when she found the napkin in her hand at the bar while talking to another girl. Remembers the weight from Christen’s glare as she searched the crowd for her. Watched how she slipped away with a glare, out a side door of the dance floor.

Tobin remembers reaching for Kelley and pulling her close, smiling wide at the girl while she said introductions. Winking in a dare to see how far Kelley could go, before thinking if she really remembers. Stood focused on her task at hand, ignoring the thought in her head, of how weighted her glances were. Smoothed wrinkles, and stumbled in folding corners before pausing to refocus. And she remember smiling in triumph that she remembered all the right folds to make a flower. 

Set out through the crowd, smiling back to other girls, ignoring how they reached out to touch her. Determined to know just what shade of grey her eyes are when not in the light of the bar. Found her sitting alone in the corner of the patio, eyes tracing the stars. Think it odd how it’s hit her sternum so hard, shakes off the thought of her faith being tested. Breathes deep before stepping to join her, make sure not to disturb her, instead followed her gaze to the stars. Thinks it’s nice to have her beside her, fiddled with the flower. 

And it’s moments past that she forgets to count when Christen finally turns to her. Head rested on palm, eyes half closed, and they’re more green than grey when out of the bar. Thinks her gaze is too weighted, let’s it settle in deep like the roots of a tree. Doesn’t think to rush the words on her lips, never thinks to pause.

“They look more green than grey out here,” study the crinkle in her eyes, the lines of her brow. 

Watch the heat tint rose her cheeks, and think how badly she wants to know her. Smiles in triumph, at the softness of her touch when handing her a flower made from a napkin. And Tobin’s okay with the label of chill, laughs at how they call her ferocious in her appetite. Shakes it all from her head when she thinks back to never stopping to think before speaking all the things she notices about her. 

And it may be new, this feeling of heat that raises to her cheeks when Kelley says she’s the only thing Tobin speaks of more than soccer. Counts out in her head, the looks she used to get when she let slip Christen’s name. 

First while shopping for groceries when barely 21, idling behind Kelley, eyes wandering the aisle stopping as she hit her. “Dude, pay attention to me.” 

“What?” Hates to admit that she was thinking of her.

“I said we need to figure out what to bring for this pot luck.” Turns to her left on her heel, reaches for whatever’s closest.

“Cookies... done.” And continues on without stopping to notice the words Kelley yells at her. Instead thinks back to the way Christen nodded her head while in practice, nail between teeth like she was lost in the act. 

“Tobin. Seriously stop spacing out and take this seriously. We can’t just bring cookies, it’s supposed to be like all grown up.” Grows frustrated in staying still too long for such an idea as that. “Alex said to make an actual recipe.”

Feels agitated in the act of shopping, forced to play adult and she hates to admit how she’s been thinking of her. So she stops to refocus, thinks to look all around her. Flipping through recipes she knows, ones she thinks she could master before sighing it out and admitting defeat.

“Let’s just grab something from the deli, at least then we’d know it’s edible.” Move at the nod of her head, return to the thoughts she’d been playing on a loop. Of how she thinks she bites her nail not out agitation but because she’s lost in thought. Stops to look over salads made, pastas prepped and thinks, “Christen likes this stuff.”

Holds up some combination of fruit, mixed with things she’s too tired to think the names of. Finds the look on Kelley’s face odd, tilted to the left, when she says it. And when she doesn’t answer, just places it in the cart and moves on to wander down the next aisle. Thinks now, that it never felt odd to think of her when pretending to be an adult. 

The second came too early in the morning, weeks or months later. Felt her head heavy from the night drinking, agitated in knowing that the team was coming over. Found it hard to focus on whatever was said when she watched Christen leave to the patio. Smiled smug at the words of whatever wild tale Kelley was in the middle of. Left to the kitchen instead of adding her own voice to the story. Paused to clean mugs, poured coffee instead of answering the call of her name. Shrugged off the looks they gave her as she placed them down in search of the cream flavoured hazelnut. 

“You hate that stuff, why do you want it?” Think Alex’s voice is too rough for the morning, as she curled deeper into herself amongst the chairs.

Didn’t think it odd, or unusual to focus so content on pouring the cream into a mug not meant for herself. Shrugged it off, and let the words slip, like the answer was so simple.

“Press likes it.” Turned on her heal, ignoring their looks and left to join her. 

Didn’t think anything of it, sitting on a patio with a girl she’d only just met. Revelled in the quiet of the morning, with her head clearing of the fog earned from a night of drinking. Took note of how she hummed into the first sip, the light caught in her eyes. And it hit her fast, a blow to the sternum, that she didn’t feel the need to speak. Just liked how it felt to sit beside her. 

Tobin has always found art to be her outlet, of all the things that burn too bright inside her. Felt the conscious acts of paint strokes to calm the restlessness like a prayer of absolution. Thinks that to create is a gift of love to prove her devotion. Whether it be in paint strokes on nails or the keys to a piano. Thinks that knowing something of her only feeds her soul more, and oh how ferocious her appetite is. 

“Teach me that song will you?” Doesn’t pay it any mind when Kelley looks at her strange. 

Just hear’s the notes hummed out on her breath in the background. Finds her fingers flexing to remember the keys progression. And it doesn’t hit her strange, that the camp is near ending or that the songs words fail to take root. Just hums along to the melody of a song she heard sung under breathe on the field. Thinks it’s nice enough to know, revels in the challenge. 

“I didn’t think you liked that band.” Knocks shoulders with Kelley, taking seat on the bench instead of running out with Allie. Sits focused on the keys progression, as shouts can be heard just outside the front doors. 

“I don’t really know them.” Copies hand placements and sets to memorize the way they progress, as she remembers Christen humming along to them. 

“Then why should I teach you the song?” Stumbles after her hands, pauses to reset, sits focused on the way the notes progress. Thinks it’s not that strange a want, to learn to play a song, that someone hums while lost in thought.

“Something to do.” Looks up over her head, to the girl laughing outside. Thinks how nice it would be to play along to her humming. 

“You know... Press has been listening to this song on repeat lately.” Just hums out her answer, too focused on her hands pressing out the songs progression. 

Knocks her shoulder against Kelley to get her to repeat it, pays apt focus to the way her hands move along slow. Flexes her fingers, aching in their want to learn something new. thinks it strange the things she’ll do to feel the weight of her gaze on her shoulders. And she’ll stumble along, playing slow to the tune. Ignore the look from those who know her, finding the act a prayer of absolution for being too scared to set roots so deep. Find it calming to create something so pretty out of the restlessness that runs wild in her. 

Think that the way Christen pauses with her head in the doorway to listen makes the ache in her hands worth it. Hums along under breath, never knowing the words, but thinking how pretty the melody. 

Finds time to pause when she says, “I like this song.” Think her eyes too green to be grey in the mid afternoon. 

“I know.” Ignored the questioning look from Kelley before setting back to the task of remembering the notes progression. Finds the truth in her words calming as she stutters through the first verse. Stops to repeat it. 

Tobin thinks how the words just form, first in thought of noticing her. Never thinks to stop from saying them. Likes the tint to her cheeks, her smile so shy, and how she caused them. Thought the moment just right, sat on the beach, drinking whiskey from glasses to admit how she thinks of her.

“I don’t think I’m meant for her forever.” Remembers thinking how sudden Christen has become in her thoughts. 

At first they were random, just moments she noticed. Never paid much attention to how strange it felt to hold them in, letting them form on the tip of her tongue. Began to count out the times she’d think of her. First while pretending she was grown enough to be an adult. Secondly on a morning, just this side of fully awake, when her mind was still foggy from the night spent drinking. Loses count after nights learning to play songs on the piano, like they were prayers of absolution. Too afraid to set roots so deep, so scared of her faith being tested. 

“Who do you think you could be with forever?” Finds the words strange, in that she’s never been scared to question the thoughts of noticing her. 

Doesn’t pause to think how she should’ve been embarrassed of how bold she talked, when everything outside was falling apart. Just thinks her eyes are too green to be grey, tries to refocus while searching for the break in the waves. Don’t think that she shouldn’t speak the words that sit pretty on her tongue.

“You know I can’t say I’ve ever really thought about it that hard.” Finds her nerves hitting too sudden, too hard against her sternum. Tries to think of how her thoughts should be on Shirley, but she likes the way it feels to just be sitting next to her. “All I’ve figured out, all that I have really focused on,” thinks back to patios, field lights, and bus rides. “At the most random and inopportune times,” thinks of faltered steps, and second glances in the quiet of the riot of being so young in a crowd. “Is that I don’t ever want to be without you.”

And she’ll admit it odd, the heat of the flush to her cheeks when Kelley says. “You’re the only thing Tobin Heath has talked about more than soccer.” 

Think it just funny, that everybody laughs, while all she can do is trace the lines of her smile. List all the things she knows for certain, count them out in ‘I love you’s.’

And it’s odd to think, that she knew from the first handshake. But Tobin Heath likes to take her time, let it all soak in. Reminds herself of all the steps she taken to building a home, weighs all her wrongs and her rights. Before letting slip words she’d never thought to hold in, “I really love you.”


	2. Annoyance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen’s thoughts on how she loves Tobin in so many countless ways, tries to remember them when she annoys her.

There are countless reasons that Christen loves Tobin, and she reminds herself of them whenever Tobin does something that annoys her. Like how she lingers in doorways when they’re already late. stay’s just a minute too long to say goodbye to people she doesn’t even know. And especially when she stops listening ten minutes into her talking if they’re sat in the living room. And it bothers her that Christen still hasn’t figured out why literally every other room or place is fine. Anywhere else and Tobin will put down whatever book, game or pen she’s holding. She will smile with her eyes crinkled in the corner, and she could repeat verbatim what Christen said. 

But their living room? Tobin is lost to anything Christen says or does, always lost to whatever craft she is attempting, game she is playing, or team she is supporting. And when she’s doing none of those things, then it’s near closed eyes and shallow breath’s, with yawns meant to keep her awake but fail. Or it’s weighted looks, and touches that start out slow until they’re suddenly all Christen knows. And she knows the battle is futile, the answer never enough. She knows it’s pointless to remind her of such an event when sat in their living room. But she hopes, for whatever reason, over and over again, that this time will be different.

Christen loves Tobin for so many countless and overwhelming reasons. but when she’s stood lingering in the doorway of their apartment, running ten minutes late. Christen finds it hard to remember any of them.

“Goddamnit Tobin, you’re supposed to be ready to go.” And any other day coming home to Tobin waiting, snacking on dry cereal while stood in the doorway, her heart would beat double. “We’re already ten minutes late and you’re not even dressed.”

She’ll think back to all the family dinners, team outings, and appointments near missed because Tobin didn’t listen. She’ll think of how they would rush out the door, forget the meals they prepped, the gifts they wrapped. How they missed the start to movies, rounds of games, rushed through orders of food in the middle of restaurants. She’ll think of everything that annoys her when Tobin doesn’t listen.

“What’re you talking about? What’re we late for?” And she’ll feel her resolve melt into the pit of her stomach. Fight to breathe out on a count of 4,3,2, release.

“We have to meet your cousin for dinner.” She’ll struggle to stop from stomping her foot and yelling that it’s her family they’re meeting. Hell, shes the one who made the plans, all Christen did was remind her while sat on the living room couch. “Tobin I reminded you last night.”

“That’s today?” And it irritates Christen to no end the way her eyebrow lifts in question. How she stands up tall, hand paused in the cereal box. It irritates Christen to no end that Tobin still hasn’t moved to get dressed. Even though they’re over ten minutes late. “I’ll be quick I swear.”

And Christen tries to think of the way Tobin looks just waking up. Instead she thinks of the way she’ll hit snooze three times before Christen pushes her out of bed. Christen tries to think of all the times she’s come home to dinner, either made or ordered in, waiting on a candle lit table. She forgets all of that when she sees the box of cereal left on the hallway table. Instead she thinks of finding boxes and packages left everywhere but the cupboard they’re meant to be in. She’ll think of the time she fell asleep on the couch and woke to melted cookie crumbs all over her feet and hands. 

Christen loves so many countless and near overwhelming things about Tobin, but at the sound of the shower turning on, she struggles to remember any of them. And she won’t clean up the cereal, she swears she won’t. And if she does, it’s out of nervous habit and the fact that she made sure to be ready after her meeting. After blankets are folded, glass cleaned, cereal box returned to cupboard. Christen will admit she’s impressed the shower’s turned off already. But stops to think they’re already 15 plus minutes late, and she hates being late.

She’ll pause, try to remember to breathe on a count of 4,3,2, release before she takes notice of the cleats, caked in mud, by the tv. She’ll think that they both love the game, enjoy the messiness of it. then think of the wood floor and the cost to refinish it. Think of Tobin daring her to stand on the floor waxer while still covered in dust and stainer. She’ll think of the shower they shared after. And she wants to be patient in her frustration, wants to forgive this one flaw. But it’s the principal of the thing that has her set in her anger, thinks Tobin needs to pay more attention. 

Tries to hold the memories at bay, those early days when Tobin seemed so set to study everything about her. So set to memorize their moments together, hyper focused to all of Christen’s anxieties and movements. So she tries to fight the feeling that she has been slighted when something so trivial is forgotten. But Tobin never listens to what is said when they’re home in their living room. So she stands listening to hurried footsteps, doors closing, drawers sliding and the muttered curse when Tobin inevitably stumbles, stubbing toe against something in their bedroom. 

She looks to take inventory of the room, laid out meticulously in those early days. Lays her hand on the couch that Tobin visited for three weeks before buying. She counts the frames on the walls, the table by the door; thinks they don’t count as clutter. Moves to pick up the coaster from the coffee table, muttering, “At least she used one this time,” chooses to ignore the ring on the corner.

She thinks back to shopping for pillows and blankets, explaining and explaining the meaning of a throw versus a quilt. How one is meant for spare bedrooms and porches, the other designed for living rooms and balconies. Tries to hold her resolve when she remembers Tobin’s brow furrowed in studious seriousness but before letting slip a slow, “Okay... So blue or grey?”

She’ll pick up the cleats, place them with a glare in the closet that they lined with vinyl for such things. She’ll let her hand stroke the worn jackets on hangers, stop to inhale the leather of Tobin’s. Before shaking it all from her head and refocusing in her resolve to be mad. Tobin should listen, especially when she’s made the plans. She’ll try to forget bourbon street, and the lines of this jacket over that shirt. Shake it from her head how good Tobin looked, remind herself she’s set to be mad because Tobin doesn’t listen. She’ll look to her watch, think they’re over twenty minutes late, and these aren’t even her cleats that have stained her hands and shirt.

She’ll storm to their room as a warning for her to hurry, try to think of what she would wear in place of this. She’ll push open the door, scowl in place, stop sudden at the sight of Tobin stuck in her shirt. Try to hold her laughter in as the shirt tangle’s around elbows and shoulders, think of course this’ll happen to her. She’ll hold it in, play it off as a sigh, tap the nervous energy out with her foot to gain her attention.

“You look like an idiot.” And she loves Tobin for all the moments like this, when her excitement wins out over her abilities. 

“Well I feel like one too... the shirts tangled in my necklace and hair.” Stop herself from reaching out to touch the muscles that ripple along her back. 

No, Christen’s angry, and they’re twenty-five minutes late. So instead she sets to replace the shirt she’s stained with Tobin’s cleats. Only watch her succeed in pulling down the shirt out of the corner of her eye. Pretend she doesn’t notice the line of the necklace hanging longer than usual. no, she’ll change too quick to pretend she’s notice how the lines of the shirt are cut to frame her in ways like they did back in October of ‘15. And it annoys how Tobin likes to dress so casual, just ripped jeans and fitted shirts. Think it’s annoying how she does it knowing it’s Christen’s weakness. But she’s resolved in her anger, determined to ignore her. 

Until she does that thing where she stands staring at her in the reflection of the mirror. Her face softened but eyes determined to trace all the lines of Christen’s face. She hates how she feels when she sees them falling, following collarbones, mid-rifts, and hips bones. She hates that for all her reasons to be angry, it all disappears when she looks at her like that. And she struggles to think of the mud collected on the floor next to the tv. Struggles to remember that they’ll need to vacuum the crumbs from between the couch cushions. 

She’ll struggle to remember they’re twenty-five minutes late when Tobin places her hands on her hips. Pulls her in close to her body, head falling to her shoulder, and it’s just a simple press of her lips to the edge of her neck. Think she smells like rain just finished, her skin just cooled from the water. She’ll think of a shower they shared after all the repairs made to their apartment when they were just getting started. 

“I’m sorry.” She’ll shiver at the breath on her neck, fight to stay mad, because it just isn’t fair when Tobin does this.

“They’re your cousins.” Find the crack in her voice as she finds her hand settling over Tobin’s. “We’re thirty minutes late.”

And there are countless reasons she loves Tobin, all so overwhelming and frustrating. Because when she doesn’t listen she just want to not like her, wants to stomp and yell, remind her that it’s not over. But then Tobin does this, she holds her firm but gently, placing languid kisses like necklaces, and she just wants to not like her. 

“I know... I’m sorry.” She thinks how she tastes like the ocean just warmed enough for comfort. How she feels sun soaked and clean and something else that’s distinctly just her. 

“You’re a jerk.” Hates how she turns in her arms, her hands finding hair, neck and shoulders before settling to stare at her. 

“I know... I’m sorry.” Hate how there’s always a smile just in the corner of her lips. Hates how the kiss is soft and gentle, just lips pressed to her jaw. Oh god how she hates that they’re thirty minutes late.

“You need to listen to me.” If she says it with a sigh, feeling all resolve to stay angry melt into the pit of her stomach. she’ll say it’s because of all the reasons she loves Tobin, even when she’s annoying. Not let slip that Tobin knows where to kiss on her neck. 

“I know, and I’m sorry.” And it’s a love hate relationship she has with Tobin’s voice low and steady like that. “I’ll be better... I promise.”

But they’re already thirty minutes late, and Christen hates when Tobin tries to distract her. Hates when her hands are gentle but firm, kisses languid and soft. And she shakes it all from her head, how sudden it can all turn into more. So she pushes her away, reminds herself of running late, and crumbs between the couch cushions. 

Tries to be firm and angry, “we’re already late. Let’s go.” 

Avoids her glances as she lingers in the door way, stays focused on her shoes, her make up and jacket. Ignores the way Tobin looks in her leather jacket, instead focusing on turning from station to station on the drive over. Breathes steady when she notes they’re almost an hour late, hope dinner isn’t ruined, their night not missed. If she’s quick to jump out of the car, looking over heads of people lined to enter the restaurant, she’ll take pause to breathe. 

“Hey! You’re early!” If she jumps at the voice coming sudden from behind her, she’ll play it off. Then pause to process the words, feeling irritated at a different Heath.

“Early?” She’ll try to fight the way her eyes narrow, as he hugs Tobin first then move towards her. 

“Yeah I gave Tobin the wrong time to make sure she’s actually here to order.” And it irritates Chris to no end how the Heath’s can break her calm. It annoys her how carefree Tobin’s laughter is, and she loves her for so many countless reasons but god does she annoy her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Struggles with this one for some reason


	3. Kelley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley learns best with hands dirty, eyes focused, and what ever task it is at her finger tips, learning Emily was no different.

Kelley is a kinaesthetic learner, far too rambunctious to be gentle. And if you ever call her soft, she’ll do whatever it takes to prove you wrong. She’s determined, with a fierce focus and chaotic energy set tight in her jaw. Kelley is smart, and she knows it, loves to read and learn. But she learns best with hands dirty, eyes focused, and what ever task it is at her finger tips, learning Emily was no different.

She’ll deny any moment she’s cried, brush off the nerves, the fears. Pretend it’s all fine, as she stumbles and leaps through all these steps with her. And she’ll deny you any fight she’s lost, always twist it so she’s the victor. She’ll hold her sorry’s close, mutter them into her chest, her shoulder or neck. And Kelley is anything but weak, no she’s the protector against spiders and bees. She looks under the bed after scary movies and shakes it all off like it’s a game she’s lost interest in. She’s not weak, but there’s something about the way emily holds her. Her touch gentle and soft, yet firm, like she, Kelley O’Hara could be something breakable.

And despite what people say, Kelley’s not a big cuddler, she swears. She doesn’t get the constant need to be touching, wrapped so close, so sweaty together. But her touch is soft and gentle, and she waits in invitation for Kelley to lay her head on her chest. Counts the beat of her heart, listens to the rise and fall of her chest. Oh how they sway and swell around each other like a sweet lullaby, pulling her to sleep softly and gentle, but firm with her head resting on her like a pillow. 

And Kelley is smart, calculated in her words. Mindful of her actions, her thoughts and what she wants Emily to know. She’s smart, but god how she fails to voice all this. It all stumbles out in rushed words, that sway and swell around each other. And she should be better at this, less scared of it, but settled isn’t happy. And goddamnit Emily makes her happy, she just struggles with the words to voice it.

She’s learned to let her ramble, found that it’s never meant to be answered. She’s learned that it’s done in thought of some thing or another. She likes to watch her when she’s quiet, and she’s never been one to just touch to know someone’s heart beat. Feel it thrum under fingers, like something steady and solid. Ticking out a beat meant to calm minds before the riot. She let Emily guide her, in the middle of the night when everything hit her too hard and the words wouldn’t form how. She hates to say she was crying, so scared to not say it, this thing that swells in her chest. So she stumbled in her words, trying to convey how much she needs her. 

Finds it dumb how something so little, as other people fighting for her attention could unravel her. But she refused to run, instead sat in her tears trying so hard to earn her. Let emily’s fingers trace the tears, curl in her hair, rest soft on her back. Felt kisses light as air press to the crown of her hair. And she let Emily guide her, hand shaking in her grasp, to cover her sternum like it was build to calm her. Found her breath in the beat, while they sat in a bed that didn’t belong to them.

And Kelley is too rambunctious to be gentle, too wild to settle. But the feel of her hand over hers, how it made her feel strong enough to sit silent. And the only words she knew to say, steady and sure, as solid as her heart beat. They stumble out in a whisper. 

“I love you.” And she hates how little the words sound when she’s trying to convey just how big Emily makes her feel. “I want you.” 

Hates how little it sounds when she means to say more, that she wants the big moments, world cups and olympics medals. She wants the small moments, holding hands while going for coffee, waking up to her stretching out slow and languid. She wants the moments when it all seems so big that it doesn’t make a sound. Those moments like then, and now, when just the sight of her builds so big in her chest, when she feels unsettled in knowing that she loves her back. And she’s never been one for big conversations, never one for declaring her feelings in those epic ways of romances. But in moments like this, she wants to scream until her voice is hoarse, her lungs ache beneath her ribs. Instead her hand is placed over her sternum, feeling the beat race double.

“I’ve never wanted anything like I want you.” Think the words aren’t enough, and yet they’re overwhelming. Suffocating in the way they burn, drifting over like perfume. 

Kelley’s played the fool to make pretty girls laugh. Danced in the quiet of kitchens, living rooms and hotel rooms. Hid away the people she loved, kept them all to herself. But she’s learning to share, learning to swallow the words when the world begs for her attention. Finds the moments when she can place her hand on her chest, in team huddles and side lines, comforting. Has grown to accept that quiet doesn’t mean fighting, though every bit of her past tells her otherwise. 

She’s learned that Seattle was a placeholder, meant to teach her how she could love. That as much as she thought that love was enough, she deserved so much more. She’s learned that people love her, that they show in their own way. Knew Tobin’s gaze from darkened stands as she ran line to line. Felt it in the way Christen would reach out for her, just a hand placed on arm to calm her. Has heard Alex tell her in scolding tones, with glaring stares meant to stop her. And she’s learned love isn’t always enough when it isn’t the same between them. 

But this love with Emily, it burns her, deep enough to scald. Sits warm in her stomach like tequila, dulling out the voices of concern. It’s her hand placed on her sternum that teaches her that love is solid, when sat in bed while she reads. Sees it in the way she always pauses in invitation, with a question of “join me... if you want.” And it’s overwhelming to think of all the times she stumbled, turned on heel and ran. Found it all too much too fast when she didn’t think she could be hers. 

But she’s learned that she loves her, hates how her voice quivers when she says it. “Why do you love me?” Counts the way she failed all the others, always too wild to stay.

“Should I count the ways?” Hates the laugh that escapes when Emily grins so cheesy. “I think I’ve always loved you, even before I met you.” 

And it’s strange to think she knows what she means, finds it all too cliche. “That’s impossible sonnett.”

“Everything about you... it was always what I wanted when I thought of loving someone.” Feels her hand shake against her sternum, feels her heart beat double. “It’s the way you move, in and out of groups of people so seamlessly. Like you could fit anywhere, but you choose to stay right there... the way you listen with abandon. Focused on what’s not said rather than what people choose to say. Like you know something more than anyone in the room.” Lets her pull her closer, laying her head over heart beat. “It’s how everything seems so big and loud with you, like you can’t contain everything you’re feeling. The way you’re so bold to share it, even when you’re quiet.” She’s never asked to hear the reasons she could be loved, always too scared of what they could mean. “It’s your determination to fight for the things you want. How patient you are in the work to earn it... it’s how you make me feel like I could be worth it.”

Kelley’s always been a kinaesthetic learner, understood the theories but found it easier to learn when it’s at her finger tips. Learning Emily has been no different. So she learned how to make her coffee, with almond milk and three sugars. Practiced making omelettes and pancakes, picked fruit and flowers. Noted it all down which ones would make her smile falter before growing too big to be contained. She’s learned to keep a spare blanket in the living room, to carry snacks in her bag. She’s learned that mornings are meant for quiet, laying in bed before rushing out to play. 

She’s learned how to voice all her displeasure, in steady words rather than shouts. Fought to stay when they grow too heavy, and Emily comes home too late. She’s learned to share her with all the people begging for her attention. That while tangled up in the riot and ruckus, she’ll always pause in invitation. A question of, “join me... if you want to.”

She’s learned that settled was never quiet, her home never meant to be just one place. Found it in her arms when they dance face to face, swaying within a step. She’s grown to know that her expectations, of marriage and home were never what she wanted. Instead she roams with her by her side, reaching to place her hand on her sternum. And when they decide to buy a place, it’s only home because she’s in it. Found all her fear was in the unknown of whether someone loved her. Finds it so bold in the way Emily voices it.

“Why do you think I waited so long? I always knew I loved you, wanted you to love me back.” And her heart breaks at the thought that she broke her, tore her down and left her. Played into her fear by dancing with others.

“I was so scared to love you... even when I already knew I did.” Hates how small the words are, how they break her down and let her in. “Whenever I loved someone before, it always seemed out of place. Like they loved me too much or I didn’t love them enough. Or with hope, when we loved each other the same, but everything was wrong... loving you was too easy. Loving you is too easy, and it scares me.”

And she hates how the words make her small, for Kelley O’Hara isn’t weak. She’s the victor of fights and games, the killer of spiders and bees. But loving Emily sonnett makes her feel so small, knowing of all the others that fight for her attention, beg for her time.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not right.” Thinks how wise someone so young can be. “Love isn’t supposed to be so hard, and even if it’s easy, we’ve fought so hard for it.”

She thinks how small she feels when stood in her arms, like she could be so fragile. She thinks of how strong she feels knowing Emily’s the one to hold her, protect her.

“That’s not what I mean at all... god I get so tongue tied trying to explain it.” So she holds the words in, let’s them sit on her tongue, burning like tequila. “It’s easy to love you, because it feels like I was meant to. Like this whole thing was what I was preparing for... and it’s scary to think I could love you so deep. Scary to think you could love me back the same... it’s like everything about you has become apart of me. And I don’t know when that happened.”

Kelley’s never been one to cuddle, always found the need to touch always so overwhelming. But her hand lays over sternum, like it’s all something so solid. She thinks back to texts she read so many times she could recite them. Thinks back to the challenge in her eyes, like loving each other was just a dare to take on.

“Well I mean... we kind of danced around it for awhile.” Thinks back to the very beginning, when dancing came easy and they lingered a minute too long for it to mean nothing. “Kind of made sure we knew where the other was... it just took us awhile to get in step. And darling, if nothing else can be said of us... we sure can dance.”

Thinks she loves the way she holds her, kisses her so gentle, before leaning in to steal the smile from her face. Making it all seem so worth it. And Kelley’s always been a kinaesthetic learner, too rambunctious to be gentle. But the riot and ruckus is where they feel settled, holding onto each other.


	4. Emily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And when the book falls to chest, she’ll dream of what plays she’ll teach him, her, whatever child they’re granted. Think that all she’ll need is caffeine to chase after them, and laughter to ground her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one came out sadder than expected.

Caffeine and laughter is all that Emily Sonnett says she needs in life. She’s made the rosters, played the big games. Donned trophies and medals, lived larger than most legends. Takes her label of hype women as a greater accomplishment than all the others. And when asked what she wants all she says is laughter. Knows the people in her life understand that she means Kelley. And it’s in the dying days of her career that she feels settled and happy. Having built a home for so many of her teammates. For that’s what they accomplished together, having built a home in Georgia. 

They have set a tide, in which people return to crash on their couches and beds. Become the constant for so many of the kids trying to navigate the world they grew up in. Thought back to the days of indecision of who will start. Built an empire on frustration, taught the patience of work and the steps it takes to get what you want. And it’s in the dying days of her career, just thirty-seven, that she looks back on it all and thinks it’s been so worth it. Watches over the things she does with a quiet determination for their life to begin anew. 

It’s during Saturday night dinners, and Sunday brunches with the kids now veterans that she thinks it’s been all worth it. They’ve played stadiums, and in the Olympics, fought for championships a hundred times over. But it’s the display of photos that sit on the mantle that remind her it’s all been worth it. And she promised her ten years, wants to promise ten more but it’s the determination to start anew that has her feeling so settled. It’s overwhelming in its passion to learn her all over again. 

It’s in the middle of dessert, honied berries from their garden, when she stops to take pause when Kelley finally asks, “What’re you thinking of?”

Thinks of every fight, every kiss and all the indecision that has lead to this. A room filled with new faces, all too rambunctious to sit still. Thinks of the new role she’s taken on, to help build a team. 

“I’m just thinking of all the days I get to spend with you.” And it’s her laughter she needs when it all seems so overwhelming. “You’re going to be so sick of me by the end of it all.”

It’s her hand on her chest, the tilt of her head, as she laughs so loudly, like it can’t be contained. Thinks she could never not want this. 

“Who says I’m not sick of you already?” And she’ll tell you she knows she’s lying by the way her palm sits on her sternum. Admits she plays a fool just for the reward of her laughter. 

“Why miss Kelley your words wound me... how dare you say something so mean.” Play offended while stepping away, let her pull her back in for a kiss. Smile at the groan from the crowd, the thwack of a napkin hitting her back.

“Sonnett that was so corny,” being yelled from Lindsay. 

“Get a room!” Only added just barely, over a bite of food, mumbled by Sam. 

“We have a room. It’s right next to the one you’re using.” Wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, and think it’s all worth it at the sound of her laughter. 

Smiles at the groans coming from the kids huddled close in the corner. Traces the lines of their faces so young, with rounded cheeks and a look of something she thinks she forgot. Finds their voices too hoarse to speak above a whisper, as they sit so close to hide from the riot of the kids now veterans. 

“Don’t traumatized the children! Some of us still have to play with them this week.” Think of how strange the words form on Mal’s tongue. thinks of how odd it is to be a veteran of a team she idolized when so young. 

“And some of us still have to train them to stop being so timid.” And it’s strange to say, to think she’s set to be something other than a player. But it’s the way they all laugh, quiet and unsure that reminds her of the riot. 

“Who would’ve thought they’d let you be someone so important.” Hear it muttered from the corner, and she’ll wonder how many steps it would take to make her shudder out an apology. 

“What was that Rose?” Her glare almost breaking at the paling of her face, the realization that even now she’ll still fight her. 

“Hey I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” And her glare will almost break at the squeal she lets out. “Save me Sam!”

“Hey, no fighting at the table.” Think her touch is so familiar as she tugs at the sleeve of her shirt. “We have to set an example for the kids.”

And they’ll both turn to the group, all so young and new to the world they grew up in. Think it odd how she’s set to begin as something more than just a player. Watch how they cower from their yells and play fighting. 

“You say that now, but I remember all the times you egged us on.” Finds how big it all feels when she just shakes it all off with a laugh she’ll never grow tired of.

“Behave sonnett.” Thinks how it’s all ended now, no more starts to fight for. Turns to the sound of a door opening, footsteps falling too fast for comfort as Hayden, just six, tears into the crowd. “Whoa buddy.”

Watches it all unfold, as he sets footing to jump, arms spread wide so Kelley could catch him. And she takes comfort in knowing that life is only just beginning, with a new team still chasing after the legend they wrote. Watches how Hayden squeals in laughter, his arms flung around her shoulders. Thinks how maybe he could be theirs if their lives were different. Shakes it from her head and turns to his parents as they wander in, hands swinging between them. 

“Tobs!” Reaches for her first before turning for, “Christen, mrs press, ma’am.”

“Why do you have to call me that?” And she holds the laugh in at her furrowed brow, head tilted in confusion. 

“We’ve decide to convince the kids to call you that.” Whispers it low so the prank stays secret. “Kelley thinks it’ll be funny to convince them that you’re super serious and stern.”

And if they glance over to the kids, still too scared to make a sound, she’ll hold the laughter in to make the prank stick.

“You guys are so weird.” And maybe they should’ve chosen Tobin for it, with the way she stands so collected. 

“Hey we haven’t grown up completely. And what’s the fun of being a trainer if I still can’t pull pranks on the newbies?” She’ll let them pass, collect Hayden before greeting the others. If the thought passes through her mind that maybe if their lives were different he could be theirs, she’ll shake it from her head.

Fall into step of playing host to a team long disbanded, people all grown up and set in new adventures. Watch how they interact, with quick embraces and words whispered, before turning to the others. She’ll watch him crawl from lap to lap, climb over Sam and sit on Lindsay’s shoulders. She’ll trace the lines of their faces, all aged in the years past, think how it all seems so strange to be so grown up. 

“Coach Heath?” Try to hold in the laughter at the sound of it all, so absurd to think that they’re all so grown up.

“That’s the weirdest shit I’ve ever heard.” Laugh at how Mal says it, so dead set in her voice with eyes so wide.

“Language!” Laugh harder when Kelley yells it. 

“Like you haven’t said worse in front of him.” Think it’s all so funny how Christen rolls her eyes, and sets out to make a plate. “But Hayden don’t you dare repeat that, I don’t need another phone call from school.”

“Dude, what did you say at school that got you in trouble with your mom?” Strain to hear what he answers, but finds it’s all just mumbles and wide eyes. 

“Coach Heath?” Thinks it’s all so strange how they’ve settled into their new roles.

“Cadence you don’t have to call me that anymore, or like ever.” Watches how Tobin turns to the kid, just turned twenty, her voice quivering in uncertainty.

“Right, sorry.” Thinks she was never so timid, never so scared to speak. “I was just wondering how long you’ll be here for? Are you staying for the game?”

“Yeah kid I’ll be here for the game, we didn’t come out here just to see sonnett make a fool of herself.” Think maybe she shouldn’t flip her off after the fact, when she Hayden giggle. 

But she pauses to look over them, three new faces to the game. All just barely twenty years old, unsettled in the riot of becoming legends. Thinks back to her first camp, when everything seemed so big, so scary. And maybe they’ve all grown, set records and fought over distance. But oh how they’ve grown up in this life, of hotel beds and team huddles. Thinks they’re all so much more than just teammates, so close to what she calls family. 

And she’ll tell you how proud she is, of Tobin being a coach in LA, Christen head of their company. Both parents to a boy, just six, who climbs from lap to lap and under table. She’ll think it all strange that Kelley, now in charge of marketing for under armour, is still with her. And it’s odd how it’s all changed, with them all set in new careers, Mal’s just about ending. How they’ve graduated from hotel rooms to conference tables. But it’s the photos on the mantle that matter, of new borns and weddings. And she’ll think that if their life had been different they could have a kid like him, remembers it’s just beginning. 

“You’ve got to stop spacing out.” And she’ll shiver at the breath on her neck, jump at her touch, before shaking it from her head. 

“Sorry... it’s been a strange night.” Kiss the crown of her hair, hold her close in her arms as they turn to play host to the crowd before them.

“This isn’t over.” Think the words are too big, drawing on a thought that comes too sudden, too fast. Finds it sinking in her stomach, at having this conversation again. 

She’ll tell you how they tried, fought through tears and false starts. Talked over names and colours of walls, spoke quiet of all the things they’d teach him, her, whatever the child. Finds it all strange that life’s just beginning, and everything she owns she deserves. Fights the lump in her throat at the thought that it’s never any more or less than what she deserves. And maybe it’s strange that what she wants now is a family, one set to grow up in a house built in Georgia and not in hotel rooms. But it’s something she craves, something she’s too scared to say she wants. So she’ll shake it from her head, focus on the moment. 

Fall back in to the rhythm of dinner, answer what questions she can from kids too scared to speak above a whisper. Think she has a new goal of making them into legends. Feel the night drag on, end with Hayden asleep in her arms. Turn to catch the look in her eyes, likes it all too much, too fast when everything was so sudden. And they could’ve had a boy, or girl like him, if only their lives were different. But as Tobin has said, their faith had been tested. And she’s meant to focus on the now, the new beginning. So she shakes it from her head, thinks they have the conversation. Remind herself they’ve steadied, grown calm enough to voice it. 

“Tobin, it’s getting late.” She’ll trace the fine lines of his baby fines growing wild around his face. 

Think it’s all been so fine this life they’ve been living, and shes earned what she deserves. Thinks they’ll fight for it, but for now it’s just time to start their new beginning. So she hands him off to his mother, laughs her hand soft against his back, think his heart beats double in her arms. And they rush to say goodbyes and good nights, whisper promises of more nights together. Sees them off, and sets to turning lights off as the rest of the kids, now veterans, filter off to rooms nearly theirs. Sighs into her touch, let’s her hold her, settled into the sway of just them.

“Are you nervous?” Think her voice is too soft to break above a whisper.

“No.” Knows enough to not speak louder.

“Was it Hayden?” And it hits her so hard to think how they could’ve had one like him. “it’s okay you know... to talk about it... I’m okay to talk about it.”

And they tried for so long, fought so hard, reminded themselves they could never not want this. Remind themselves to not think how they could never not want one like him.

“I don’t know if I am... ready to talk about it.” And it’s out of habit that she lays her palm flat against her stomach. Think that out of everything it’s what she wants most. And she knows their options, studied them closely, thinks it’s all too much too fast. How she hopes it happens sudden. “Not about that... but soon, after the next camp. Okay?”

She presses soft a kiss to the crown of her hair. Thinks that all she needs is the sound of her laughter. Thinks back to all the things she’s earned, how she deserves them. But it’s not the medals or trophies that matter, but the photos on the mantle. Thinks that it’s all start anew, and that patience comes in the work. Wisdom in the falls and missed steps, thinks of how wise they’ve grown up to be. And she thinks all she needs is caffeine and laughter, shakes it from her head that they’re just out of step with something they want. Finds comfort in her palm resting against her sternum. 

“I love you, remember that.” Think how it’s still makes her blush hearing her say it. Think she’ll still play the fool to make her laugh, even in such heavy a conversation.

“You know we could probably still adopt Mal... or Rose if we’re really desperate.” Think it makes it so much easier having her hold her, stand by her side to protect her. 

“We’ll just kidnap Hayden... he’s cuter.” Think that she could never not want this. But she’ll settle for caffeine and her laughter, hide her time until they earn it.

“Ours will be cuter.” Think it’s all just beginning, and patience is learned in the work you do to earn it. “After this next camp, we’ll scout out potentials.”

She’ll whisper it into her hair, press a kiss to her forehead, take solace in her laughter. 

“Maybe let’s not say that to the agency.” Let her pull her to bed, settle into the routine of reading next to her. And when the book falls to chest, she’ll dream of what plays she’ll teach him, her, whatever child they’re granted. Think that all she’ll need is caffeine to chase after them, and laughter to ground her.


	5. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How strange it is to think they’re people of interests. But how lucky they are to know every moment of it.

Kelley O’Hara will tell you that Tobin Heath doesn’t dance. She’ll sway foot from foot, or bop up and down in one spot, but full on dance? No. Tobin doesn’t do that. She’s pulled her on dance floors, put her arms around willing girls, and lead her in the steps to make it appear as if she’s smooth on her feet. But there’s always been something that stops her, and she’s done with teasing her. With all the dares and the pranks to try and make her dance, she’s done. 

So when she sees her, hand held above her head, feet moving along the dance floor. Well she’s unsure of what she sees, but she knows it is because of Christen. For whatever they claim they’re not at that point, Kelley is sure of one thing, Tobin Heath doesn’t dance just for any girl. Sure she’s been known to throw her arms around teammates, swing hips in time, and after the third shot she even sings along. But to dance, arms around another girl, her eyes locked in focus on her face, and her steps sure in their movement. Well that’s a whole other thing. 

It was during Christen’s second camp that she noticed, them on the edge of the floor, lost to the moment. It was when she first thought that the only name she’s heard constant from Tobin’s mouth was Christen’s. And it all came crashing in like a wave too big to dive under. The fact that maybe, with all the little things they do, that maybe they were meant to be. But Kelley shook it from her mind, thought Tobin too restless to settle.

And Tobin will tell you that she knew from their third camp together that Kelley and Emily were something special. It was the way they only seemed to quiet when planning a dance together. She watched in amusement out of the corner of her eye as they plotted hand movements into steps on the edge of the locker room. She’d say that there seemed something special with the way Emily kept up to the pace that Kelley set in her steps to the music. If she were someone different she’d have voiced her wondering aloud earlier than she wanted. But she let them have it, keep it close to their chests. 

And Christen will tell you that Tobin stumbles, and leans into her when they dance. But the way that she notices Emily just holding Kelley closer is a secret she’s unsure of keeping. So she lets them dance in dining halls, soccer fields and hotel rooms. Keeps it as secret as she’s willing to keep before mentioning it to Tobin. 

Emily will stutter and stop, before voicing just the thing that makes her heart pause before racing. How they start next to each other, before turning face to face, falling in step. She’ll tell you all about her hand placement, first on her shoulder then her waist, and finally against her sternum. How she never second guessed her next step, always sure of where to guide them. 

And it’s been painful for all the others to watch how they’ve danced around each other. Playing fools to the rhythm of heart beats and missed steps, blind to all the actions they took to get together. They’ll tease them and joke about all the moments they knew before any of them. 

Alyssa will talk about her regret of being so quiet and walking into moments she feels were so private. Of watching from the lobby when sleep evaded her, of a drenched Christen and Tobin running for cover in Seattle. She’ll wax poetic of how it seemed so romantic to watch two friends she calls sisters to finally, and she means finally kiss. Complain how she lost the pool because they couldn’t wait one more camp. But how she felt so privileged to witness the moment when they finally figured it all out. And ignore Tobin when she calls her a creep for staying until they came in, with sheepish grins and hands clasped right between them. 

Becky will yell, and say she’s heard everything about Emily when Kelley would lay her head on her shoulder. Force book or controller out of her hand to listen to her tell of what prank they achieved. She’ll tease her saying she’s missed her cuddles, and the way she’d giggle when recapping their adventure. 

They all roll their eyes when Alex claims title of matchmaker. Laying claim to pushing them all together through phone calls and changed bus seats. Say she dared Kelley to dance with Emily, Tobin to chase after Christen in bars and brunches. She’ll say she knew and grew tired of watching them all dance around the periphery of the other. Say she laid the foundations of what love should be, played role model and now look what they are. And when she fights with Allie for the title of godmother, none of them let slip that they’ve chosen someone different. 

And when it’s years later, their cleats all hung up and family dinners are too distant apart than they are close together. They will play host to who those they still consider closer to family than teammates. Exchanged Christmas cards of family pictures, extend invitations to birthdays and graduations. Replace gold medals and trophy’s they earned for third place ribbons and science fair placements on their mantels. Think how wild the ride it was to play a game for so long, only to settle into homes with new families. 

And when they’re all asked by their children, at too early an age for their comfort, about how they knew they’d love each other forever. They all sigh and try to count all the overwhelming moments in their story. Tobin will say that she knew from the first handshake, had struggled with her faith being tested. Christen will yell “cop out” and then whisper how they grew up in love, only waited for the right moment to say it. 

And when Kelley’s asked? She’ll say she was stubborn, too determined to love in her expectations of what settled should be. How she wasted so much time, but how she’s so lucky to have lived it. Scoff when Emily says she’s always known, never doubted it. That she learned that patience is learned in the work to earn what you want. That waiting in the middle was lonely until it wasn’t, and that no matter what she’d have waited for forever. 

And when they sit in a dark theatre, watching a movie about the legacy of the double world champions. They laugh at the actors playing out their romances. Cheer at the part of Ashlyn and Ali’s wedding, clapping and whistling as they claim they lead the way for them. Think it all so funny, how many people praise their relationships when all they can think is that it’s not over. But what little is shared, what little people know, they think is too much for what they think they are. And how strange it is to be considered people of interest. But their stories are too overwhelming to tell in such simple words, with moments lived that were too loud to make sounds. 

And how lucky they are to know all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do think I am done. Thank you all who have read, you’ve all been too kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will be disjointed, just random moments or musing of whomever the person in the two pairings.
> 
> Let me know if it’s something I should continue.


End file.
